


A round at the pub

by DraniKitty



Series: Short stories from the Garbage Court [15]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Cross-dressing?, Drinking, Drunken Making Out, Drunken Singing, I mean clothing really doesn't have a gender does it?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraniKitty/pseuds/DraniKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All good things start with boredom, all great things end with somebody in a dress.</p><p>(Also, possibly the most dubious application of the term 'short story'; Inspired in part by a post on UMYAes, because that seems to be my #1 place for inspiration and won't stop any time soon ~ And a certain... Bit of art... For that maid outfit)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A round at the pub

It was the kind of night that could potentially live on in infamy, good or bad. It wasn't often that the core of the Garbage Court, the king and his entourage, went out to drink, but they'd found themselves in a familiar pub, surrounded by familiar people, human and fae alike, and the drinks kept flowing. There was no reason for the revelry, no celebration or mourning. It was simply a case of a Friday night with nothing to do, no worries about school or work the next day, just a group of friends and an open tap.  
  
All things, of course, have a beginning, even a night as crazy as what wound up being, and like all good things, it began with somebody bored.  
  
Ross lay on the woeful remains of their latest sofa, yet another casualty to him forgetting just how much he weighed. Boredom had set in hours before, as he surfed through various shows on Netflix, trying to find something that piqued his interest. Somehow, he'd wound up in Smith's menu, looking at various war documentaries and old monster movies and other assorted things. He let out a sigh, tail thumping against the back of the sofa, tearing more holes into it.  
  
The front door opening made him sit up slightly, as Will walked in and set his bag down. "Hey, Ross. Nobody else home yet?"  
  
"No, and there's nothing on!" He sat up fully, tail still thumping on and tearing the fabric. "I've gone through my whole Netflix, Trott's, Sips', yours, and now I'm going through Smith's, and nothing looks good to watch!" He rubbed at his face, tugging slightly at his cheeks. "Nothing good is on!"  
  
Will blinked. "Whoa. Didn't feel like going out?" He walked over, sitting on the side of the couch that would best make it possible to avoid the glass tail.  
  
Ross could only sigh, loud and over-dramatic. "No. I didn't want to go do something alone, but Smith took his car to the shop and I didn't want to go with him, and the rest of you have been busy with work and school."  
  
"Oh..." He gave his knees a pat, thoughtful. "Well, I'm home now, so... What should we do?" Will glanced at the television and the amalgamation of consoles around it. "Trials? Worms? Smash Brothers?"  
  
He shook his head, tail twitching another way. The tip jabbed into the floor, getting stuck for a moment. "No, don't want to play those." He rubbed at his shoulders. "I was thinking maybe Street Fighter."  
  
He stared at Ross, expression blank for half a beat. "We don't have that game."  
  
"I know, it's only at arcades and the pub up the road!" Or at least, the version he wanted to play. It was the controls that he wanted more of than the games, the distinct feeling of the joystick in one hand and the buttons under the fingers of his other as he performed a killing combo on whoever he was playing against.  
  
Will let out a hum. "Well, by a miracle called finals, I have no more homework until next semester." He looked at his watch. "Sips and Trott'll be home soon, not sure about Smith... Maybe we can go." He became thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think I've been to the pub up the road."  
  
Ross' eyes lit up, growing wide. If Will looked closely, he could make out tiny flecks of color besides icy blue. "We haven't taken you, have we?" He grabbed Will's arm to look at his watch. "They better get home soon!"  
  
"Hey, that's my arm you're pulling!" He wrestled his arm back from the playfully-tightened grip, a grin spreading on his face. "Now I know what to get YOU for Christmas this year! A watch of your own!"  
  
The front door opened, Sips walking in. "Aw, you're getting Ross a watch? You're not supposed to TELL!"  
  
"It's definitely an idea!" He rubbed his shoulder, then inclined his head. "How long you think Trott and Smith'll be before they get home?"  
  
Undoing his tie, Sips eyed Will. "Not sure, why?" He hung the tie up on the coat rack hook, soon followed by his for-work jacket, damp from a late-season drizzle.  
  
"Because it's Friday and going to the pub sounds like a good idea right now." He got up, struggling slightly to get out of the dip Ross had created in the sofa. Looking back at it, Will frowned. "We should probably replace that..."  
  
"We'll worry about it later. Ross doesn't get to be on furniture that often" Really he just felt too lazy to go looking at a new couch. By the time he'd changed from his business suit to jeans and an old t-shirt, cap firmly in place, Smith and Trott were walking in. "Hey, just in time to go drinking!"  
  
Smith paused in taking his shoes off. "Oh, good! I could use a drink after all that shit." He made a face. "Will, if something happens to that car again, I'm just getting another one." He stepped aside to allow access to the shoe rack. "I don't much give a damn about your morals about it, getting a new one's always worked just fine for me before!"  
  
Sliding his shoes back on, Will scowled up at Smith. "You're STEALING them."  
  
"Believe me, mate, they aren't driving those cars anymore."  
  
Before they could get into an argument, Trott reached up and grabbed them both by the collar, pulling them down closer to his height. "Sunshines, let's not argue over it right now." He let go, shouldering past to open the door back up. "Drinks are calling us, lads, let's go!"  
  


* * *

  
  
The Crooked Caber was a cozy hole-in-the-wall, a pub that hadn't changed much since it had first opened decades before. It had become a favorite haunt of the court, a place with good alcohol and good food, with still-functioning arcade cabinets that were almost as or older than the court itself. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by the bartender.  
  
"Well if it isn't my favorite customers!" He walked around the bar, arms open in greeting. "And you've brought a new friend! Who's this?" He looked over Will, eyes flashing for the barest of moments. "Very human."  
  
Sips gave Will a pat on the back, smiling in his easy way. "Ravs, this is Will. Newest member of the core of the court!" He went over to their favorite table, sitting at that perfect spot between the bar and the arcade. "Though I guess 'new' is relative, he's been hanging around us since last winter."  
  
Ravs eyed Will, looking him over. "And he's legal to be in here, right?"  
  
Will bristled, reaching for his back pocket. "I assure you I'm legal to drink, I have my ID on me!"  
  
Holding his hand up, Ravs' face turning serious. "Best not be showing that around this pub, most people around here are less than human and that ID has your full name on it."  
  
Opening his mouth and closing it, Will was ready to respond when he let out a yelp, dragged to the arcade by Ross. "Come on, Will, play us some Street Fighter!"  
  
"Okay, I'm coming, just don't yank out my arm!"  
  
Sips chuckled, watching them as they joined Smith at the cabinets. "Sometimes I look at those three, and feel like I have a bunch of kids..."  
  
"I can see that." Returning to the bar, Sips in tow, Ravs grabbed glasses from the shelf. "So, what kind of drinks does he like?" He didn't need to ask what everybody else wanted. He could quote all their orders as if they were things he himself drank all the time.  
  
"Long Island Iced Tea." He'd never forget that, or the first time he'd seen what Will could do to the lights. He went over to the table, joining Trott. "You ever think about the fact those three are like kids?"  
  
"Well considering one of them IS a kid compared to all the rest of us, yes." As their drinks arrived, he couldn't help smiling. "Frankly, after knowing Smith most of both our lives, I can't complain about what Ross and Will do to him." He held up his glass. "Cheers!" Their glasses clinked together, drawing Smith's attention. They were all soon drinking and laughing, relaxing after a long week.  
  
A curiosity grabbed at Trott, an old feeling he'd seemingly long forgotten. Pointing at Will's second glass, he rested his elbow on the table and chin in his hand. "How does that taste?"  
  
He tilted his glass, looking down into it. "Like iced tea." He gave a nod. "It's actually made really well this time." The surprised look Ravs gave him from the bar wasn't missed. Tilting the glass toward Trott, he couldn't help a daring grin. "Wanna try it?"  
  
He gave a shrug, taking the glass. "Alright, I'm game." He took the straw, sucking on the liquid. There wasn't a burn, nor a bitter taste. It tasted like over-sweet tea, and he couldn't stop drinking it down.  
  
Will let out a laugh, reaching for the glass. "Okay, you can stop, that's not like beer!" He pulled it back over, looking at it. He had to confess being impressed, most of it was gone. "You... Really drank a lot of that."  
  
A flush rose on Trott's face as he covered his mouth. "That is so sweet!" Why did he want more? He shot a glance at Smith, who had started to laugh. "What?"  
  
"Trott, mate, do you have any idea what's IN that?"  
  
"We're in a pub, so I would assume alcohol." He took a drink of his beer, then made a face. It was far too bitter after the large sampling of Will's drink.  
  
Waving Ravs over, Smith was grinning wide. "Full of vodka, gin, and tequila! Ravs, a new long island for Will, and bring Trott his own!"  
  
Looking in his glass still, Will slid it over to Trott. "You drank most of it, you might as well finish it."  
  
Prepared to protest, Trott thought of how bitter his own drink was compared to what was being offered. He turned, pointing at Smith. "I'd better not regret this, Smith."  
  
Smith could only hold his hands up, still grinning. "You shouldn't, and if you do, we'll just carry you home."  
  
"You'd better be right."  
  


* * *

  
  
A couple hours later, along with two more glasses and more bodies in the pub, Trott was leaning on Ross, face a distinct shade of red. "You know what? Fuck the ocean."  
  
Still nursing his second glass, Will could only smile just a bit. "Why's that?"  
  
He sat up, slamming a fist on the table. Glasses still partially-filled with liquid were lifted up, an attempt to not have them spill. "The fish are jerks, and you get sand up your arse!"  
  
Ross tried not to laugh, setting his drink down. "I can't imagine what sand up the arse feels like."  
  
"It's horrible, and it's gritty, and it gets trapped places you can't get to very well!"  
  
Finally setting his own glass down, Smith leaned back. "Gonna have to agree with him there. And the waves!"  
  
He wagged his finger at Smith, eyes narrowed. "Don't GET me started on the waves! Knocking me down, pushing me against the rocks.. Rude!"  
  
Looking in his glass, Trott's eyes narrowed further, practically closed. "My glass is empty..." He turned, getting up. "Ravsy!" Ross' arms shot out, catching Trott before he fell. Not seeming to notice, he held the glass up. "M' glass is empty!"  
  
"Trott, you've had enough." Ross tugged him back down, winding up with a lap full of selkie. "You don't need another one."  
  
"But I want more." He leaned toward Ravs as he approached, trying to nab the glass he was carrying. "Ross, let me go!"  
  
"Don't think so, mate, you've had enough." Both watched as Smith leaned over, taking the glass.  
  
"Oh, lighten up, Ross, we're here to get hammered!" He sniffed the drink, then passed it to Trott. "More whiskey, if you'd please, Ravs!"  
  
Grinning just a bit cheekily, Ravs set a basket filled with rolls in the middle of the table. "Do you want me to just bring you the whole bottle?"  
  
Smith tilted his head back, then grinned. "Yeah, that'll work." He sat forward, pointing at Will. "And you're going to have some!"  
  
He coughed, getting that horrid sensation of his drink up his nose. "What? Why am I drinking your whiskey?"  
  
"Only fair, right? Trott drank your mixed drink, you get some of my whiskey." Not that it made much sense. If anything, he should have been drinking Trott's drink, not Smith's. But that pleasant buzz of alcohol in all their systems had shut that part of the brain off. When Ravs returned, bottle in hand, he poured a more-than-hearty helping into one of the glasses, sliding it over to Will. "Here you go, bottoms up!"  
  
Picking up the glass, Will gave Smith a warning look. "If I wake up dressed for a drag show, I'm going to put a frilly pink saddle on you and parade you around town."  
  
"Wanna make a bet of it?" He gave a whiskey-fueled grin, leaning on the table.  
  
"Okay. If I wake up with regrets tomorrow, and that includes getting coerced into sucking your dick! I get to parade you around town, no matter WHAT form you choose, in a frilly pink saddle and matching dress."  
  
"And what's he get if you have no regrets in the morning?" All eyes turned to Sips, who'd been silent up to that point. "I mean, there's also the fact that regret is subjective, and could easily be claimed, so you gotta adjust the bet!"  
  
As he swirled the drink, Will had to admit to himself that Sips had a point. "Okay, so what would you suggest?"  
  
He scratched his cheek, thoughtful, then pointed. "How about, if you wake up in bed with Smiffy, you get to parade him around. If you wake up on the couch, or in your own bed, Smiffy gets to dress YOU up."  
  
So it was a game of bet-fueled dress-up. Either way, somebody would be in a dress, the gaudier the better, and potentially paraded around town. He lifted up his glass, staring Smith in the eyes, green into green. "I'm game if you are, pony boy!"  
  
"Oooh, I'm gonna make you regret that joke, mate." He reached across, gripping Will's hand in a shake. "You're on!" He then lifted his bottle, clinking it against the glass. "Bottoms up!"  
  
Another hour and several drinks later, Smith, Trott, and Will were leaning on each other, singing a song at least one had heard on the radio. " _Hey, hey, hey, what's so wrong, with one more drinking song?_ "  
  
Holding their drinks far better, Sips and Ross were laughing, even as other people, fae and otherwise, joined in. Somewhere along the line of singing, a song about finding an Irish pub popped up, much to Ravs' amused chagrin.  
  
Emboldened by the whiskey, Will climbed on the table, only source of any kind of stage. " _Now the owner is Norwegian, and the manager comes from Cork, and the lad that's holding up the bar says-_ "  
  
" _Only eejits work!_ " Smith leaned back, holding up the nearly-empty bottle.  
  
Sips laughed, getting up and walking over to the bar. "Hey, Ravs, sorry about them."  
  
Ravs waved his hand, a grin on his face. "Oh no, this is the busiest this place's been in a while! I'll take a song about an Irish pub if it means the money's flowing! But I'm curious about something."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"What were they shaking on earlier?"  
  
Sips' face lit up in a grin. "Oh, just a little bet... See, if Will there, wakes up in bed with Smiffy, he gets to put Smiffy in a dress and saddle and parade him around town. But if he wakes up in his OWN bed, or on the sofa, Smiffy gets to put him in a dress instead."  
  
He leaned on the bar, a distinct and mischief-born shine in his eyes. "REALLY, now?" A grin spread, before, he stood back up, going over to the end of the bar. "Hey, Turps, would you mind popping down to one of the shops to get a couple dresses?"  
  
Sliding a drink to yet another patron, Turps looked at Ravs like he'd sprouted another head. "Why am I getting dresses?"  
  
"You see those two?" He pointed at the table.  
  
"Who, Smiffy and his friend there?"  
  
"Aye, they have a bet about winding up in dresses. But see, I'm not keen on them dancing on the furniture, and I wouldn't mind them both waking up in dresses and a nice big note of staying off the tables." He glanced back over, where multiple people were cheering amid the singing. "Make them good."  
  
A grin spread its way across Turps' face. "Oh, I'll make them good, alright!" He hopped over the bar, ignoring the displeased sound and look he got. As soon as he was out the door, Ravs returned to where Sips stood.  
  
"Are you sure that boy's human and not a siren?" He crossed his arms, leaning on the bar for a spell.  
  
Giving a shrug, Sips could only watch as Ross refused the pull to get on the table. It would never hold his weight, especially with Smith and Will on it already. They instead roped some other pub patron in. "Technomage. Does funny things with the lights if we startle him." He glanced over, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "And I know you know what the rest of us are."  
  
Chuckling, Ravs grabbed a pitcher to fill. "You're as white-bread human as they come, hanging around a kelpie that could eat you at any moment, a selkie that left his own, and a gargoyle abandoned." He paused to fill a mug, setting it on the bar by Sips. "Pint on the house for the king of the most mish-mash court in the city."  
  
  
As Sips took the drink, lifting it in toast, he let out a laugh. "Don't forget junior there! ALMOST as white-bread human as I am!" Made him wonder why some humans had magic, really. Behind the bar, Ravs could only laugh, filling a pitcher to go refill glasses or top off half-empty glasses.  
  
Turps returned soon enough, armed with a bag. When he dumped the bag's contents out on the bar, Sips and Ravs leaned over to examine them. One was indeed a dress, bright crimson red decorated with some white lace and gold trim, but the other... The other was distinctly a maid's outfit. Sips lifted up the dress, turning it round and round.  
  
"Think this'll fit Will?"  
  
Giving a wave of his hand, Turps picked the maid outfit up. "Yeah, it'll be fine. It'll fit a tall person." He looked pointedly at Sips, up just a bit. He got a big grin in return that was both lazy and shit-eating in nature. "So, when do we put them IN these?"  
  
Taking the outfit from Turps, Sips motioned to the bathrooms. "Whoever goes to take a piss first gets a change of thread."  
  
"And if they both go?"  
  
"I think we can get Ross to help ambush them." Sips put the dresses down on the bar, then went over and tapped Ross on the shoulder. With a motion of his hand, he led the way back to where Ravs and Turps were standing. "Ross, we're gonna have some fun. See... Ravsy, he's not too happy about Smith and Will up on that table."  
  
"You're not kicking us out, are you?"  
  
Ravs shook his head, then pointed to the dresses. "Too much profit is coming in right now to kick you lot out, but I want to get back at them. If they go to take a piss at the same time, you help ambush them to put these on them."  
  
Ross stared, then motioned back and forth with a finger. "Who's wearing what?" He could just imagine either one dressed as a maid. It'd probably be funnier on Smith. Plus red really wasn't his color, it made him look sunburned.  
  
Collectively, the other three opened their mouths, then stopped to stare at each other. Finally, Sips held up the maid outfit. "Smiffy gets to be a pretty maid with his legs showing."  
  
"Works for me."  
  
They got their chance shortly after, as Will tripped his way off the table. Landing gracelessly, he blinked from the floor, before cracking up. Multiple hands helped him up before he went stumbling off, a thanks tossed over his shoulder. Setting his glass aside, Ross trailed after, holding the red dress.  
  
The bathroom was better than what television ever let on, perfectly clean and orderly with nothing broken. When Will leaned one hand on the wall, he was, even utterly drunk, more than happy to find it not sticky or anything. He was surprised, though, by strong arms sliding around him as he went to wash his hands. A quick glance at the mirror and his face cracked into a grin. "Oh hey, Ross!"  
  
"Hello, Will." He buried his face in the crook of neck and shoulder, inhaling that scent that was uniquely Will's. He knew how everybody smelled, could probably identify everybody in the flat while blindfolded by smell alone. They each had their own distinct shampoo and soap they used, lotions they preferred, and other things they preferred to smell like. He quite liked it. Eyes closing, he smiled and simply listened to the running faucet water, humming quietly as a damp hand slid up through his hair.  
  
"Why are you chasing me into the bathroom?" Even with the alcohol coursing through his veins, he had just enough presence of mind to question it. "Not chasing a quickie, are you?" In the mirror, his eyebrows wiggled.  
  
A grin spread across Ross' lips, before he planted a kiss. "Could be." One hand slid up along his stomach. "Or..." His tail lifted, the dress carefully arranged on it. "I'm here to put you in something much more interesting." He wasn't in to taking advantage of Will's drunken state, not like that. Maybe for putting him in a dress, or some other prank or other, but not _that_.  
  
Under normal circumstances, he would have refused. Or would he? He wasn't sure at the moment, personally, but Will's face cracked into a grin. "A dress... You want to put me in a dress..." He turned around, blinking momentarily as he forgot the arms around him. "Okay. Why the hell not?"  
  
The grin was still there  as he let Will go, reaching and grabbing the garment. "Good to see we're seeing eye to eye, Will! Let's get you changed!"  
  
Back in the main pub, Smith jumped off the table, stumbling a few steps before righting himself. He turned around, arms out as he gave the cheering crowd a shit-eating grin. "I'm okay!"  
  
As the cheers tapered out, he turned to head for the bathroom, only to stop. He cracked into a grin, starting to laugh as he saw Will leaving the bathroom, Ross close behind carrying his regular clothing. "Night's not even over, and you're already in a dress!"  
  
Stopping by the bar, Will placed his hands on his hips, lifting one side slightly. "You're just jealous because I actually look good in this!" Behind him, Ross did nothing to hide the snickering.  
  
Smith's face flushed for a moment, before his mouth ran faster than his brain could filter anything he said. "Hey, I'd look way better in a dress than you would! At least I'M from a part of the world where it's socially acceptable to wear a kilt!"  
  
Sips chose that moment to walk over, hands out with the maid's outfit hanging off one arm. "Ladies, ladies, you're BOTH pretty! But, hey, Smiffy..." He held the outfit up. "You gonna put your money where your mouth is?"  
  
His eyes narrowed, holding a hand up. "Now hold on." There was a pause. "I'm not drunk enough for that YET." He made an exaggerated motion toward the bathrooms. "Lemme take a piss, and I'll let you know in a drink or two if you can get that on me."  
  
When he walked off, Will tilted his head. He looked between the outfit and Smith's retreating backside, then over at Sips. "And you're sure he's not going to-" His words were cut off suddenly as another person latched to him. "Hi, Trott!"  
  
"Hello, sunshine!" What had to be the biggest, most uncharacteristic grin was plastered on his face. "Nice dress."  
  
"Thank you, I like it, myself." He shifted, looking down to tug at the hem. "Wonder how much I'll like it if I'm less full of the drinkie-drinkie."  
  
He gave Will a pat on the shoulder, still leaning into him. "You'll still look gorgeous."  
  
"Aw, thank y-" Will was cut of a second time as his face was pulled down into a kiss. A sound of surprise escaped his throat, eyes growing wide, before his brain caught up and propelled him to the decision that yes, this did feel good.  
  
Ross let out a sound himself, somewhere between amused and jealous. "Aw, I wanted to do that..."  
  
"Better luck next time, Ross." Giving him a pat on the back, Sips ushered him away from the bar. "Why don't you go get our drinks? I think our table's been claimed by the rest of the pub."  
  
As one walked away, another walked up. Taking up one of the bar stools, Smith spun around on his seat, a grin on his face. "Awww, is Wee Willy Winkie hooking up with Trotty-too-hotty?" He let out a laugh as he got a finger from both. "Sips, what's another good song for a pub?"  
  
Scratching at his chin and throat, Sips tilted his head back in thought. "Well, there's the theme song from Cheers..."  
  
"That'll do!" He grabbed Ross, who nearly dropped everything in his haste to set it all on the bar, dragging him over to the crowd. "Come on, Will and Trott're too busy to join in the singing!"  
  
Leaning on the bar, Ravs couldn't help but laugh. "Well, at least it's not that Irish pub song again." He looked at Sips, still grinning. "Thanks."  
  
He gave a wave of his hand. "Nah, don't thank me. Blame a bored gargoyle."  
  
By the time the night had ended, they'd wrangled Smith into the maid outfit and somehow Ross had been dragged onto the table to join the singing. It had predictably not survived the encounter. It was about then that Turps and Ravs finally ran them out of the pub, stumbling down the street to head home, Smith and Will leaning on either side of Ross while Trott leaned on Sips.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Will woke up, he shifted and pulled a pillow over his head, groaning. "Too bright..." An arm fell across him as a face hid against his back, causing him to jump with a startled yell. Rolling over, pillow flying, he was shocked to find Smith so close to his back. "SMITH?!" He immediately regretted the yell.  
  
Fending off the pillow, Smith let out his own groan. "Will, mate, keep it DOWN..." He squinted, then rubbed at his face. "The bloody hell're you WEARING?"  
  
Behind Smith, Trott sat up, eyes squeezed shut. "You're both being far too loud, mind shutting up?"  
  
Blinking against the light, Will looked around. "This isn't my room." He looked back at Smith and Trott. "This isn't my bed." He looked down at the dress. "This isn't my pajamas, and you're dressed as a maid."  
  
"What." It wasn't a question, as Smith shoved the blanket out of the way, ignoring the displeased sound Trott made. "Why am I dressed like this?"  
  
Rubbing his face, Trott finally opened his eyes. "Whatever the reason is, we're keeping at least the maid outfit."  
  
There was some silence, before Smith crawled out of the bed, standing to look in the mirror. After a moment, he frowned. "Be honest, does it make my butt look big?"  
  
Will simply groaned, covering his face with the pillow again. "I'm going back to sleep, I don't give a damn which bed I'm in right now, or what I'm in." He wouldn't admit out loud the dress wasn't unpleasant to wear. Dimly from the kitchen, the sound and smell of breakfast being made drifted in, but he really didn't care at the moment. He was going to try and sleep a little longer. Trott simply reached over, giving his back a pat.


End file.
